Accentuating Off-White Pinstripes
by pomegranate-stars
Summary: Effie decides she can't have Haymitch running around dressed like a street urchin, so she drags him clothes shopping. Hayffie.


**This fic was a prompt from my lovely sister, who threw the new Catching Fire still (the one with Haymitch and Effie dressed all snazzy) at me and demanded a clothes shopping fic. So naturally, I obliged. :)**

**Fic part of my official NaNoWriMo 2013 word count!**

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Haymitch had been done with this about fifteen minutes after they'd walked into the store. It was cluttered and crowded, with stacks upon stacks of shiny, colorful, gaudy fabrics lining the shelves and tables, and salespeople who would pause, judging, for the briefest of instants before plastering on their smiles and asking him how they could help.

"I thought you said you only wanted to check in here." He snapped, more than a little annoyed as Effie turned around and dumped another shirt and pair of slacks onto the already heaping pile he had bundled in his arms.

"Yes, I know, but honestly, Haymitch, this store never has these kinds of sales, and you said yourself that you didn't have the wardrobe to attend any of the upcoming Capitol functions so, _naturally_, I couldn't let you show up looking like a ragamuffin."

She bustled past a mannequin, paused for a moment, and then backtracked swiftly to examine its outfit, forcing Haymitch to leap backwards to avoid getting stepped on. He shot an irritated look at the back of her head, but of course she didn't see him.

She fit in perfectly with the crowded store, all bright colors and cheerful smiles, just bordering on the edge of too wide to be real. Her hair was done up to style, bright orange and obnoxious, and Haymitch wondered briefly what she would do if he just marched up to her and tugged the wig off her head.

He entertained himself with that thought for a few minutes, before he realized that somehow, he'd acquired three new button downs that all appeared to be exactly the same, and that Effie was nowhere in sight.

"Ah, shit." He muttered, glancing over his shoulder and ignoring the appalled face of the little girl rearranging a rack of skirts. He took a step forward and bumped a table with his hip, sending the carefully placed handbags wobbling.

"Shit shit shit." He tried to nudge them back into place but only managed to knock two over and off the table. He glared at the blue bag like it had done him a personal offense and vaguely considered kicking it under the table.

"Haymitch!" Effie's tone was scandalized, and she rushed to pick up the bag and set it back in its display. "This just came out this season, and it is _brand_ new."

"This is stupid." Haymitch gritted out. "These shirts are exactly the same, and if they don't stop playing the same damn song over the speakers I'm going to set something on fire."

Effie frowned deeply. "Haymitch. Manners." She tossed a smile at the sales girl, the smile that Haymitch recognized as the "oh, don't mind the rude, crazy man, he doesn't know what he's saying, let's have punch instead!" smile she gave whenever he lost his temper with someone he shouldn't. It always left her looking a little bit tighter around the eyes, a little bit forced, but still pleasant enough that no one would notice unless they looked carefully. Haymitch figured the only reason he'd noticed was because he was most often the cause of that particular smile.

Effie put her hand firmly in the middle of his back and steered him purposefully towards the back of the store.

"Where are we going?" Haymitch asked, despite himself, hoisting the massive pile of clothes higher in his arms.

"We can't exactly buy anything without letting you try them on first."

Haymitch instantly dug his heels into the plush carpet, trying not to let his face betray how little desire he had to be shoved in a dressing room and put on a shirt that cost more than he spent on whiskey in a month. There had to be at least two dozen articles of clothing in his arms.

"No way in _hell_ am I—"

Effie growled, actually _growled _in frustration under her breath and damn, if that didn't send the weirdest thrill down his spine. He stared at her and color began to slowly pool into Effie's cheeks. "Oh my, that was so incredibly rude, please excuse me." She breathed, covering her mouth with her fingers in horror.

Haymitch felt his lips curl despite himself. "Get a little frustrated with me, sweetheart?" He teased, and in a flash the vulnerability and embarrassment was gone from eyes that rolled themselves to heaven.

"Haymitch, you simply cannot purchase anything from a boutique like this without trying it on first, now go back there and change, and don't you even think about lying and saying nothing fit. I expect you to show me." Effie crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with her sternest look.

Haymitch looked at the clothes in his arms, then at the row of dressing rooms in front of him and tried not to think how much easier this would be with the easy spin of alcohol clouding his head. "Damn it." He grumbled, and stalked towards the shiny, prestigious doors. He squeezed into one of the little rooms and shut and locked the door behind him, unceremoniously dumping the clothes onto the floor.

He could almost hear Effie's appalled gasp in the back of his mind and grinned despite himself before turning to the mirror. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and examined his reflection with squinty eyes – average height, with dirty blonde hair and a whiskey-paunch that certainly hadn't been there fifteen years ago. He looked faintly annoyed. Rolling his eyes, he decided he might as well get this over with because while fighting with Effie was one of his favorite pastimes nowadays, sometimes it was just easier for everyone to just do what she said.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off and pulling his undershirt over his head. He didn't look at his reflection, instead bending and grabbing a shirt at random off the floor, tugging it off the hanger and slipping it on, rapidly doing up the buttons. It was mauve (or at least, that's what the tag said) and had a smooth, almost slippery feel against his skin.

Haymitch checked the price tag and then checked again. This had to be a mistake – a misplaced decimal point or something because no way in hell did this shirt cost this much. Shaking his head, he grabbed a random pair of trousers and put them on, shimmying a little as he tried to zip them up.

"Nope." He declared, staring at his incredulous reflection. "No way in hell—"

"Haymitch Abernathy, you let me see."

"Sorry, sweetheart, you gotta pay for my show."

"_Haymitch_, people can _hear_ you!"

"Good."

He heard Effie stumble over an apology to someone for his behavior before sighing grumpily and turning around, unlocking the door, stepping out into the little hallway. He frowned at Effie, trying specifically to express how much fun he was not having, when a peculiar look crossed Effie's face.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't have paired that shirt with those trousers…" Effie began, crossing the space to stand in front of him. She tugged on the collar of the shirt as casually as if she was fixing her lipstick in a mirror, smoothing it down and letting her hand trail down his shoulder to his upper arm. "But this is a nice color on you."

Haymitch barely heard what she said, too caught up in deciphering how close she was standing. He could smell easily the perfume she'd chosen for the day, something light and a little bit fruity, and from this close, it was easier to see her eyes, blue and focused on her task.

Light fingers tickled his hips as they tugged gently on his belt loops and Haymitch stepped sharply away. "What are you doing?"

Effie raised an eyebrow. "Checking the waist on these pants?" She closed the distance again and hooked a single finger in his belt loop, giving it a gentle tug. "They might be just a little bit tight, but I'm afraid another size up will be too big…" She frowned and Haymitch very desperately needed to be anywhere but where he was currently standing.

"Alright, alright, woman, stop manhandling me." He batted her fingers away and escaped into the dressing room, shutting the door.

"Try the teal shirt next!" Effie's voice had an odd note to it, but Haymitch was too busy frowning at his own reflection, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked a little ruddier than he had before. He blamed the stupid lighting in these little rooms and furiously unbuttoned the mauve shirt, not bothering with a hanger and leaving it in a crumpled pile on the floor. He glanced at the teal shirt, and then instantly scrapped the idea.

"I'm not putting that one on." He informed the door over his shoulder.

"But the color would look so nice with your eyes!"

Haymitch ignored her and rooted through the pile of expensive fabric on the ground in front of him until he found what he was looking for. He exchanged the pants he was wearing for this new pair, a pair of sleek black dress pants. He examined the shirt in his hands. Also black, it was crisp and the fabric felt nice. He specifically did not look at the price tag because he didn't want to know how much money he was currently standing in, and pulled the shirt on, slowly buttoning it up. After a moment's hesitation, he left the top button undone.

"Haymitch, what are you doing in there?"

"Patience, sweetheart, it's a virtue." Haymitch fired back easily, tugging on the shirt. He scratched his collarbone awkwardly before sighing grumpily and turning around, shouldering open the dressing room door.

Effie glanced up guiltily from where she'd been picking at her nail and froze.

Haymitch went to put his hands in his pockets and then changed his mind, letting them fall to his sides instead. "What's the matter with you?"

Effie blinked, stepping forward hesitantly and reaching up carefully, smoothing the collar down. Her hand lingered on his shoulder and she seemed fascinated by the sliver of skin leaving the top button undone had revealed.

They stood there, far too close in the cramped dressing room hallway for just long enough that it couldn't be excused as social convention anymore before Effie seemed to remember herself suddenly and stepped swiftly backwards, dropping her hand.

"This one is nice." She said quietly and Haymitch's hand rose of its own accord to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck.

"I actually think—" He began, but was almost immediately interrupted by the perky sales girl who had greeted the pair on their way into the high end boutique.

"Can I help you two find something?" She chirped and Haymitch didn't miss the look of relief that flashed over Effie's eyes.

"Oh, no, we're fine." Effie said smoothly, her smile easy and charming, and the girl threw her own right back before turning to Haymitch.

"If you want, Sir, I can show you a great selection of belts that would go excellently with that combo." She smiled winningly, clearly on commission. Haymitch raised an eyebrow and then glanced over her shoulder at Effie.

"Belts?" He asked and Effie looked strangely touched for a moment that he'd chosen to consult her, the emotion lifting her entire face as a smile curved her painted lips.

"I don't know, I think you should be alright with the one you have." She said, crossing to stand next to the employee. "It's still in decent shape."

The employee frowned for the briefest instant as her commission flew out the window before her smile was back, full force and brilliant. "How nice. I remember when I was first married, it took me ages to convince my husband to go clothes shopping with me." She gave a little laugh. "He had the most _god_ awful fashion sense to start…"

"Um!" Effie's voice was a little shrill and Haymitch was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, trapped in this shirt, in the hallway, in the store full of judgmental shoppers standing feet away from a smiling woman who had just inferred that he and Effie were—

"We're not married." Effie corrected the woman, her bottom lip firmly between her teeth. The woman blinked, and glanced between the two of them, suddenly realizing her mistake.

"Oh my goodness, my apologies, I just assumed…"

"It's fine." Haymitch folded his arms over his chest and Effie shot him a quick, surreptitious look before nodding.

The woman stepped back, half bowing, looking incredibly awkward as she turned and practically fled to the front of the store.

The tension was… palpable. Haymitch fiddled with his shirt cuff as Effie stared fixatedly at the carpet.

"Some people certainly have wild imaginations, huh?" Effie's voice was a little too shrill to be believable, and Haymitch glanced up quickly, raising his eyebrows at the bright color on her cheeks shining beneath her makeup.

"Uh, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Don't let it get to you. They're all airheaded idiots anyway."

"… Yeah." Effie looked at her toes. "You… You should probably change."

Haymitch glanced down at his clothes. For a brief moment there, he'd completely forgotten about them. "Uh, yeah." He reached for the dressing room door, and then hesitated, hand on the handle. "Whatever you say, sweetie." He grinned, trying to lighten the tension. "You know, since we're apparently married and everything."

Effie squeaked and whacked him in the chest, cheeks bright, and Haymitch ducked inside the dressing room, snickering. He shut the door behind him, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed and the corner of his mouth had lifted in a faint, unconscious half smile. He stared at himself, back against the dressing room door, and for just a tiny selfish moment, allowed himself to think _what if_.

On the other side of the door, Effie's smile had faded slightly. She raised a hand, hesitated, and touched the door with the tips of her fingers. The door was smooth and real and in a moment, Haymitch would come back out, grumpy with her for dragging him shopping and they would argue about buying the expensive clothes, and probably snark at each other all the way to the train but what if…

But nothing. Effie let her fingers fall back to her side, banishing these silly thoughts from her head. She cleared her throat. "Haymitch, hurry up. I believe I saw a sign in a window at the store across the street for ties."

Haymitch made an exasperated noise from inside the dressing room. "Come on, sweetheart, haven't you tortured me enough today?"

"I told you, it's my duty to ensure that you are _presentable_."

"Presentable my ass."

No, she didn't need any more than this. This was… this was fine.

Just fine.

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**Thanks for reading! **


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